


Sic Me Sentire

by missbip0lar



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Maybe Part of a Collection Later idk, One Shot, Post-The Raven King, Reunion Sex, Ronan Lynch's Canonical Obsession With Adam Parrish's Hands, SERIOUSLY SO MUCH FLUFF I'M SORRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbip0lar/pseuds/missbip0lar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam comes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sic Me Sentire

**Author's Note:**

> It's always a little nerve wracking to write for a new fandom, and I know I'm a little late to the party, but I consumed the entirety of The Raven Cycle in under a month and I had a lot of _feelings_ that had nowhere to go but on the page. I couldn't stop thinking about Adam and Ronan and what Adam's departure for college would mean for their relationship, so I had to write it. TRC has been a hell of a ride and I'm already rereading all four from the very beginning again, and will continue to do so until it stops making me _feel_ so much.
> 
> I'm glad I had the opportunity to play in this particular sandbox, and there's a good chance I'll revisit this fandom with more fluffy one shots.
> 
> Major ultra shout out to my Puzzle Piece, [kafrickinboom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom), without whom this fic would have remained unfinished in a random Google Docs folder. You a boss bitch, boo, and I love you.
> 
> This work is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Somewhere in the darkness, a cell phone rang. The light from its screen wasn't very bright, but it lit up the area around it regardless. Colorless rumpled sheets, a pillow that had remained uninhabited for months, a comforter bunched up around bare legs. The bed’s sole occupant groped across those rumpled sheets for the phone, acutely aware of the emptiness of the other side of his mattress, its coolness. He slid his thumb across the screen and settled the phone against his ear, but said nothing. 

Adam's voice was tender on the other end of the phone. “It still amazes me every time you pick up.”

Ronan stifled a yawn into his pillow before replying, “You're the exception to the rule.” He rolled to his back and ran his knuckles over Adam's side of the bed, missing him desperately in this intimate and private moment. “How's Cleveland or wherever the fuck?”

“Cambridge,” Adam reminded him, but there was no heat behind it; Adam knew Ronan remembered. “Harvard, asshole. Finished my last final today…”

The words hung between them like a promise. Last final meant summer, which meant Adam's return to Virginia, to the Barns, to the home Ronan had carved out for him in his heart. Ronan felt something like anticipatory nerves bubble up in him, something like excitement. 

“When will you be home?”

“Soon.”

It was vague, his answer, but the rectangle of light that spread across the wall opposite the window just then was less so. Ronan grinned as the light moved to illuminate the framed photographs nailed to the wall of everything important - Matthew, Niall and Aurora, Gansey and Blue, Opal, Chainsaw. Adam's smile. That light, moving across the wall before coming to an abrupt halt, told Ronan the truth of tonight, but his eyes needed to see it. He rose quietly from the bed and strode to the window. 

Below, in the dirt and gravel drive, the Hondayota idled. The driver’s side door stood wide, and standing there beside it, one arm propped on the roof while the other held a shiny new iPhone to his ear, looking ethereal and lovely in the starlight of early summer was -

“Adam.” Ronan didn't like when his voice sounded like that - quiet and cautious and overflowing with emotion - but he was glad that Adam was the only one who ever heard him so vulnerable anymore. “You're home.”

“I'm home,” Adam confirmed. Ronan could hear that true smile in his voice, felt something in his chest leap a little bit at the Henrietta lilt he wasn't bothering to hide. “Want to go for a drive?”

Normally the answer would be a resounding yes. Most nights, Ronan couldn't resist the call of a summertime drive through the loping, winding Virginia countryside. Tonight, however, was not most nights. 

“I want you to come to bed so I can get my fucking hands on you. I'll unpack the Hondayota in the morning.”

He didn't wait for Adam's response before ending the call, and Adam didn't hesitate. Ronan watched from the window as he killed the engine and reached across the passenger seat to extract his charging cord. The car door slammed and the front door to the house opened and closed. Footfalls on the staircase leading to the second floor, a quiet and perfunctory conversation from Opal’s room -

“Stay in here, alright?”

Opal’s tiny whisper, Adam's sigh. 

“If you're going to say vulgar things like that, say them in a language I can't understand.”

Ronan's heart tripped over itself and he felt a smile tugging at his cheeks, weirdly proud of her. 

And then Adam Parrish was standing in the doorway to their bedroom, looking like an oasis after a long walk through the desert, and Ronan drew him into his arms. He smelt of long drives; greasy fast food, wind blown hair, sweat. Ronan loved him a little more fiercely than he had just a second ago. Adam kissed him, their first kiss since fucking Christmas, and it was the first plunging drop of a roller coaster all over again. It was a long stretch of pitch black highway, deserted but for himself and his headlights and the marriage of his roaring engine and the pounding bass in his speakers. Adam's tongue slid over his own, and it was stepping into Cabeswater for the very first time, a lifetime ago. 

“I missed you,” Adam said against his lips. 

“You fucking sap,” Ronan teased, but he knew Adam felt the truth of it. Ronan had missed him, too. He didn't need to say it. 

He backed Adam across the room, stripping him of his shirt as they went. Adam was pale in the darkness, the Henrietta summer not yet bright enough to bronze his skin. Adam dropped gracefully onto the mattress when the backs of his knees collided with it, and stared expectantly up at Ronan. His fingers were doing that thing at the edge of Ronan's boxer briefs that tickled and drove him fucking insane. Adam licked his lips while he stared at the growing bulge of Ronan's erection, and the action ignited some kind of Palvovian response in Ronan; his dick twitched violently and drooled out a glob of precome to darken the front of his underwear. The glimmer in Adam's eyes was almost frightening in its calculation. 

He wanted Adam's mouth on him with an urgency that nearly untethered him from reality, but after five and a half months of maddeningly filthy FaceTime calls, Ronan was man enough to admit (to himself, at least) that this encounter was destined to be embarrassingly brief if Adam sucked him off. When Adam dragged the cotton down Ronan's thighs and began to nip at his hip bones, though, Ronan reasoned they had the next three months open to them; marathon sex could wait, tonight was their reunion. 

“I want to make this last,” Adam whispered into the darkness, as if he'd read Ronan's mind and plucked the words directly from his throat. He paused here to dip his tongue into Ronan's navel. He looked up into Ronan's face, his hands tracing lightly over the backs of his thighs. Adam had that glimmer in his eye again. It was a dare. 

Ronan slid one hand around the back of Adam's neck and gripped the base of his cock with the other, tilting it toward Adam's lips before pressing forward. Still he was taken by surprise at how willingly Adam took him fully into his mouth, and by the wet heat of Adam's tongue as he slowly pulled all the way back, that he let out a shaky breath and clutched at Adam's hair to ground himself. Adam took it for the permission it was and swallowed him swiftly down once more. He added more suction this time as his mouth slid back up; Ronan's toes curled against the cool hardwood floor. Adam didn't tear his gaze from Ronan's, his eyes a bright blue fire, and just like that Ronan was taken apart and stitched back together again. His world narrowed down to Adam and the places they were connected. This was his favorite thing in the world; Adam seated on the edge of their bed ( _theirs theirs theirs_ ), while Ronan's cock slid in and out from between soft wet lips. Though, to be fair, everything they did together was Ronan's favorite thing in the world while it was happening. 

Ronan heard himself whisper, “Parrish, oh my God. _Adam,_ ” and he became aware that Adam still had his jeans on, that he was swiftly approaching orgasm, that he didn't want to blow until Adam was naked, until Adam was beneath him or him beneath Adam. He tugged at Adam's hair and pulled him away. A thin trail of saliva still connected them when he tipped Adam's head back to look at him. 

“You are fucking beautiful like this.”

Adam smiled, dopey and relaxed, and reached into the bedside table for the tin of lotion they kept there. Ronan wasn't completely sure of the chronology of it, but the next thing he knew he was spread out on his back, Adam's lean body bare atop his own. Two of Adam's long nimble fingers were working into him. Ronan was arching, panting, pressing back against those questing fingers. Adam was so good at this, Ronan had almost forgotten. He was as meticulous in this as he was in all other things; he watched Ronan's face for reactions, stroked his cock with his free hand, pressed his own erection into Ronan's thigh as a reminder of what was coming. 

Ronan grew impatient in under a minute. He gasped and swore, demanded that Adam get on with it, reveled in the sensation of their sweat slicked bodies against each other. He hadn't had Adam inside him in months, and the bastard was taking too long stretching him open, now. 

Something prickled beneath his skin, an itch that refused to let him forget how very far away Adam still was. They were hardly touching and Ronan could not stand it. _Adam had not slept in their bed in months_. They'd spent the entire previous summer, after graduation, together; wrapped up in one another completely. Ronan had gotten to a point where home became Adam and the Barns as a unit. Not just Adam, not just the Barns. Home was being at the Barns _with Adam_. They'd achieved a comfortable sort of domesticity when Adam took the Hondayota, of all fucking things, and drove to wherever the fuck for his first year at Harvard. 

And Ronan did all he could to keep the Barns feeling like home. And for the most part it did. Opal was here, Chainsaw was here, and there was a lot to do, but with Blue and Gansey and Cheng off on their weird-ass world tour or whatever, and Adam over 600 miles away, Ronan was feeling a little lonesome. 

So when he batted Adam's hands away from his ass and climbed into his lap, it was because Ronan needed _closer_ and Adam had no one to blame but himself. Adam looked up at him, his expression an intoxicating mix of awe and intimidation. Ronan kept staring. Adam's fingers gripped the backs of his thighs and Ronan clutched a handful of dusty blond hair. With his other hand he reached behind himself to line up Adam's cock. 

“Like this?” Adam panted. He sounded like he couldn't fucking believe how lucky he was. Neither of them looked away. 

Ronan said simply, “Like this.”

He lowered himself slowly onto Adam and for half a second wondered if he was dreaming this. He was outside of himself. He was present and he was far away. Adam's eyes were wide, his mouth kiss-swollen and parted. Ronan kissed him again just as he bottomed out, feeling more than hearing Adam's gasp over the sound of his own pulse. 

“Oh my God.” Ronan shuddered. He felt a thrum of electricity sweep through him, and Adam shifted. 

Time shattered. They moved like a well oiled machine; every place they touched was on fire. Ronan's fingers touched every centimeter of skin they could reach, Adam's mouth left deep purple marks across Ronan's neck and shoulders and chest and Ronan threw his head back to give him more room to do it. Adam's hands squeezed Ronan's hips, his fingernails scoring almost deep enough to break skin, and Ronan couldn't focus on a single fucking thing without focusing on everything at once. 

“Ronan,” Adam whispered, and it sounded like benediction. 

“Harder, Parrish, come _on_ ,” Ronan heard himself groan. “I'm not made of glass, fuck me like you mean it.”

Adam's eyes went hard as flint at the words but he didn't look away. He just shoved two of his own fingers into Ronan's mouth and told him pretty effectively to shut the hell up without saying anything at all. 

But Ronan took Adam's fingers into his mouth gladly, reminded of that first night, when they'd lain together on the sofa and rutted together, before moving upstairs to Declan’s bed to finish what they'd begun. It was a good memory, one made even better now, with the pads of Adam's fingers on his tongue and his cock hitting all the right places. 

For as close as they were, though, there was still something building in Ronan that screamed for more. He rolled his hips to perfect the angle of Adam's thrusts, forced him to hit that spot that made him cry out, kissed Adam's mouth and pulled his hair, rubbed his blood-hot and throbbing dick across the plains of Adam's stomach, praised and cursed Adam in English and Latin alike, directed him _harder_ and _faster_ and _deeper_ until he was hoarse with it. 

It all blurred together, and for a time - it could have been moments or days, Ronan wasn't sure - they inhabited a single entity. For a time Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch ceased to exist and together they became _something more_. Adam's head was resting on Ronan's shoulder, his hips jerking as quickly as they could, his hands gripping hard to Ronan as if he might have flown away. Ronan was weightless. His body was aching but something continued to drive him forward, toward that inevitable precipice that hovered just out of reach. Adam's voice was weak - or perhaps it was Ronan's - whimpering and panting and sighing and whispering _I love you I love you I love you_ into soft hair that still smelled like the Hondayota. 

“Ronan I can't hold off much longer.” _That_ was Adam, his voice ruined and shattered with emotion. “ _Please_ , Ronan, I need -”

“Come inside me,” Ronan said, and with a weak cry, Adam did. Ronan felt every pulse as Adam emptied himself, slick and molten hot. 

Ronan was quieter when he came between their bodies a fraction of a second later. His orgasm lasted for an eternity; stars exploded behind his eyes and he soaked them both with his release. Adam whispered something - it could have been Ronan's name or some kind of curse. Either way, it sounded awe-struck, so Ronan decided to consider it a compliment. 

He felt wrung dry in the aftermath, still seated on Adam's quickly softening half-erection as a kind of current coursed through him, leaving each and every part of him in the kind of tingles that reminded him of the sensation of his foot falling asleep.

It was Adam who inevitably broke the peaceful silence. “You know that _ksshhhhh_ when the tv goes all fuzzy?” he slurred. “That's how my body feels right now.”

Ronan tried to hide his laugh with a scoff, but had a feeling he didn't pull it off quite right. Adam smiled into the side of his neck and carefully withdrew himself from inside of Ronan. They reluctantly extracted themselves from each other's embrace and lay together in the silence of the Barns. 

All was right in the world, and for the first time in months, Ronan didn't want to sleep. He told himself it was because he didn't need to, now that Adam was home, and that soaking up every moment with him now was of paramount importance. He refused to admit, even privately, even now, that he was afraid of what his dreams might bring into their bed. He hadn't accidentally brought back anything dangerous in months, but with Adam home he almost didn't even want to risk it. 

Just as Ronan was resigning himself to three months of sleepless nights, however, Adam's voice lit up the room. “You can sleep, you know. I can handle anything you might bring back.”

Ronan slept. 

\--------

Adam wasn't sure what woke him. It could have been the mid morning sunlight coming through the thin curtains in their bedroom to paint the insides of his eyelids red. It could, too, have been the screech of _“Kerah!”_ from downstairs that could have come from either Opal or Chainsaw. There was also the mouthwatering scent of waffles and coffee permeating the air around him; _that_ had certainly never failed to wake Adam up before. 

Or it could have been _that_ , Adam thought with a start, becoming abruptly aware of the soft fluttering of delicate wings against his shoulder blade. He opened his eyes and gasped, all at once awed and confused and overwhelmed with so much love for Ronan Lynch he feared it might actually break him. 

Butterflies. Hundreds of them. On every single surface of their bedroom. They were green and purple and red and orange and white, and a single blue one, just a little smaller than the others. Adam sat up carefully, swallowing around the lump in his throat that threatened to bring him to tears, and spent a moment that spanned an entire lifetime looking around the room in wonder and disbelief. Ronan truly was an incredible creature. 

In all the confusion, Adam almost didn't see the slip of paper folded up on Ronan's pillow. He picked it up, unable to stop his smile. In Ronan's unmistakeable handwriting, simply

_Sic me sentire_

_This is how you make me feel_

**Author's Note:**

> I used Google Translate for the Latin. If it's wrong, please let me know.


End file.
